


Going down

by BecauseImClassy



Series: Inappropriate Workplace Behavior [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7801114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseImClassy/pseuds/BecauseImClassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Karen have sex at the office, oral this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going down

**Author's Note:**

> Another round of happy, conflict-free sexytimes! Sequel to Alternative uses for office furniture, but can be read on its own. The setting is post-season 1, when they all still work together at Nelson and Murdock and no one is fighting. Karen knows Matt's secrets, and season 2 doesn't exist.

Most of the time, Karen enjoys her job. The pay isn’t great, but that’s sure to improve once Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law, have managed to establish themselves. Her two bosses are also her friends, one of them now her boyfriend, and they respect her intelligence and abilities, which puts this job miles ahead of her last one.

Their antiquated office equipment, however, is a definite drawback. The photocopier is temperamental at the best of times, and today it’s refusing to function at all. There are no clients present, so Karen swears freely as she takes the thing to pieces, looking for the paper jam it claims to have, and failing to find it.

Foggy emerges from his office, and smiles at her colorful language. “I thought you’d beaten that thing into submission weeks ago,” he remarks, walking over to observe.

“I though I had, too,” she answers darkly. The copier beeps, and she smacks the side of it in frustration. “Stop beeping at me, damn you, there is no fucking paper jam!”

A laugh drifts out from Matt’s office, and Karen scowls at his doorway.

“You want to come out here and fix it yourself, smart guy?” she calls out.

“Absolutely not,” he answers. “I have every confidence in you, Miss Page.”

That makes her smile, a little sourly, and she sighs and opens yet another panel.

“Why don’t I make the lunch run today,” Foggy offers. “It’s past noon, and I’m ready for a break.”

“Oh, would you?” She brightens, then glares at the copier again. “I am _not_ going to be defeated by this—” she pauses, searching for an adequate insult, and Foggy grins.

“Show some respect for your elders, that thing is probably older than you are.”

“Maybe so, but I’m more stubborn.”

“You said it, not me.” He grins again at her expression, collects lunch orders from her and Matt, and departs.

Karen unplugs the copier, puts all the pieces back together, and plugs it back in again. It whirs placidly, and when she pushes the button it obediently copies the document she put in half an hour ago.

“Ha!” she exclaims triumphantly. “I told you there was no fucking paper jam!”

“You fixed it?” Matt calls.

“I did! I’m not sure how, all I did was take it apart and out it back together again. But it’s working.”

She wanders into his office, rotating her shoulders to work out the stiffness in her back from hunching over the copier. She feels a warm glow of happiness as she looks at him—she’s been half in love with him for months, even before she knew that he’s Daredevil, and the fact that he feels the same makes her feel like the luckiest woman in town. He gives her a fond smile now, and since they’re alone she walks over and kisses him. He pushes his chair back from his desk and turns it toward her invitingly, and she climbs into his lap, straddling his thighs.

“Hi,” he says happily, wrapping his arms around her.

“Hi,” she answers, leaning forward to kiss him again, more deeply this time, leisurely and thorough. His arms around her and his lips against hers spark a sharper, more intense warmth, heating her blood, and she smiles to herself. They haven’t been dating long, and it still gives her a thrill, the knowledge that walking into Matt’s office and kissing him is something she actually gets to do, and not just fantasize about.

They had agreed that they should be discreet about their relationship while at work. They had told Foggy they were dating, of course (“About time,” he’d said, completely unsurprised), but it’s just good manners not to make out like teenagers in front of him. When Foggy isn’t there, though…well. They had _not_ told him that the first time they had sex was here in the office, on the conference room table.

Matt recalls that occasion vividly now, with his lap full of Karen, his hands on her waist, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Touching her, being touched by her, is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. There are times when he still almost can't believe that this is real, that this amazing woman wants to be with him. He slides his hands up her back, feeling the lingering tension in her muscles and digging his fingers in to knead it away, and she moans and presses closer to him, running her fingers into his hair. He can hear her heart beating faster, can feel the warm flush of her skin. He smells the sudden wetness between her thighs, spread apart over his. His cock twitches, filling and hardening, and he smiles against her lips and groans softly.

“Karen,” he murmurs, nuzzling her neck and kissing her throat. “We don’t have _time_.”

“I know, I know,” she answers regretfully. She trails one hand down his chest, past his belt, down to his evident erection, and he breathes in sharply. She strokes him, squeezing gently, and he arches his back, tipping his head back with a moan.

Karen loves seeing him like this, flushed and wanting. Loves knowing that he wants _her_ , as much as she wants him. And while it’s true they don’t have enough time for everything she’d like to do right now, they’ve time enough for some things.

She leans in to kiss him, hot and slow, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and running her tongue over it. She rubs her fingers over his scalp with one hand, the other still cupping the bulge in his pants. He makes a string of small, inarticulate sounds, and she feels the muscles in his thighs shift under her as he tries to raise his hips up toward her.

“Matt,” she whispers, her breath warm in his ear, “Can I suck you off?”

He goes perfectly still, and she draws back to look at his face. His eyes are wide, his mouth open slightly. He looks shocked…but not disapproving.

“Would you like that?” she asks.

He finds his voice. “Here? Now?”

“Oh, yes,” she assures him.

Would he like that? _Jesus_. Of course he would. He’s getting even harder just thinking about it. But he’s suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that she works for him. For her to get down on her knees for him, on the floor of his own office, feels wrong, in a way that their mutual give-and-take in the conference room hadn’t. It feels like taking advantage, even though she’s offering, even though he knows the offer has nothing to do with him being her boss.

“You really want to?” he asks, needing to hear her say it, to know that it’s what _she_ wants, not just giving him what _he_ wants.

“I really do,” she tells him, her heartbeat steady and even (allowing for how turned on she is). _Truth_. He smiles, relieved.

But she hasn’t finished. “I want to suck your cock,” she says, her voice dropping to a husky, intimate murmur. “I want to see how it feels to touch you when we’re both fully dressed, with only your cock naked.” That wide-eyed look is back on his face again. “I want you inside my mouth, I want to lick you and suck you until you come. Until you come in my mouth, so we don’t make a big mess.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. His cock is painfully hard, his pants suddenly unbearably confining. “Jesus, Karen. Do it, _please_ , do it.”

She kisses him once more, her lips parting as he slides his tongue into her mouth, urgent now and needy. She stays there for a long moment, kissing him and fondling his erection while he moans softly into her mouth, then climbs off his lap and drops to her knees on the floor. She spreads his legs apart, running her hands up his inner thighs. She quickly unbuckles his belt, and unbuttons and unzips his pants. His cock surges up, straining against his boxers, and she strokes him firmly. He gasps, biting his lip, his head rolling back. She runs her mouth along the length of him, kissing and licking, breathing hotly through the fabric that rubs maddeningly against him. 

“Ahhhh, Jesus, Karen,” he repeats breathlessly. His muscles tense and quiver as she reaches inside his boxers and eases his cock out into the open air. He fights to hold himself still as she wraps her hand around him and pumps him in her fist, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“You can hold onto my shoulders if you want,” she tells him, “But no pushing my head down.” 

He nods in agreement, his ability to articulate words abruptly leaving him as she takes his cock in her mouth all at once, as deep as she can, the wet warmth enclosing him. He’s overwhelmed by pleasure, sensation flooding his brain and igniting his blood. The feel of his clothing on all the rest of his body reminds him how little time they have, adding urgency to his hunger. His cock twitches eagerly in her mouth.

He grabs her shoulders convulsively as she slowly pulls back, a breathy groan escaping him. She glances up at his dazed expression and smiles. Gripping his shaft with her hand, she purses her lips around the head and sucks, sliding just the tip of him in and out of her mouth, again and again, her tongue flat against the underside of the head. His mouth falls open wordlessly, his back arching.

She takes him in deep again, taking her time. She bobs up and down, sucking firmly, until her jaw starts to ache, then pulls off completely. He makes a mournful sound at the loss, and she kisses the tip, pressing small sucking kisses all around the head. But that’s too gentle, his nerves are crackling with need and his hips rock forward, blindly seeking more pressure. She gives him what he wants, sucking him back inside her mouth and swirling her tongue around the head while he moans in relief.

She tastes the salt of pre-come as she licks into his slit, flicking her tongue repeatedly across the tip, while he writhes helplessly. Finally she takes him deep once more, finding a comfortable rhythm, drawing him in and pulling back, more quickly now, licking across the head on each upstroke.

Matt’s breath stutters out of him in small panting groans, tension coiling in his muscles as she drives him toward the brink. Her own arousal calls out to his enhanced senses, the sound and the smell of her feeding his desire almost as much as the feel of her mouth around him, hot and wet and perfect. His cock is throbbing now, desperate for release. He taps her shoulder as his balls tighten, but she already told him how this was going to end. She just sucks harder until he comes in her mouth, crying out hoarsely, his shoulders bucking against the back of his chair as he fights to hold his hips still.

She swallows, keeping him in her mouth until he’s finished convulsing and slumps back limply in his chair. He twitches a little when she pulls off, his skin extra sensitive post-orgasm.

She wipes her mouth and looks up at him. He’s smiling blissfully, face flushed, his hair a mess where she ran her fingers through it. His chest rises and falls rapidly as his breathing gradually slows. He looks like he’s just been fucked, only he’s still fully dressed in his neat, professional work clothes. Everything’s buttoned down and tucked in tidily, except for where his pants gape open pornographically, his cock still peeking out of his boxers, softer now and smaller. It’s a startling contrast, and Karen’s finding it even hotter than she expected. She feels _charged_ , her body humming with electricity, but before she can say anything, Matt lifts his head sharply, his expression changing to alarm.

“Foggy!” he exclaims in consternation. “He’s on the stairs.”

“Already? Shit!”

Matt tucks himself back in, hurriedly doing up his pants. Karen jumps to her feet and heads for the door. “Comb you hair!” she admonishes him over her shoulder, then she darts across the main room, through the tiny kitchen and into the washroom.

She takes several deep, calming breaths, willing her hammering heart to slow, the flush in her cheeks to fade. There are times when having fair skin that shows every blush is a real nuisance, and this is definitely one of them. She turns on the faucet, splashing cold water on her face and rinsing her mouth out thoroughly.

In his office, Matt does his best to take Karen’s advice, combing his fingers through his hair and smoothing it down as much as he can. He resolutely turns back to his work, hearing water running in the washroom. He knows there’s no time for Karen to relieve her pent-up desire, she’s going to have to just tamp it down and ignore it until it goes away. He’ll make it up to her later, he promises himself.

Karen returns to her desk and takes a big drink of her cold coffee, just to make sure her breath passes muster. Then she turns back to the photocopier and places another document on the glass, just as Foggy comes in the door.

“Hey, you fixed it!” he says brightly, setting down the food on her desk.

“Yup,” she says proudly, giving the copier an approving pat as it smoothly copies one page after another. “If you need any more copies made, bring ‘em on, before something else goes wrong.”

“If something else goes wrong, you’ll fix it,” says Matt, coming out of his office and smiling in her direction.

“I’ll do my best,” she answers, with a smile for him and a mistrustful look for the copier. Foggy grins and hands out the sandwiches, and they all eat lunch together around Karen’s desk. If she seems a little distracted, no one appears to notice.

———————————————

Late in the day, Karen leans back in her chair, raising her arms into a long stretch. It’s been a quiet afternoon. She’s had enough to do to keep busy, but not enough to fully occupy her mind. Not enough to keep her from thinking about Matt.

She hadn’t anticipated that she would spend the whole afternoon turned on—she had expected the feeling to fade once she got back to work. But Matt is right there, in the next room, she can see him through his office windows every time she glances up. Right there, but untouchable. Because this is their workplace, and they both have jobs to do, and a friend they don’t want to embarrass. But she can’t seem to stop thinking about what might have happened earlier, if they’d had more time.

Matt tidies his desk thoughtfully. His senses have been attuned to Karen all afternoon, like a radio antenna homing in on a frequency. Not keeping him from his work, but a continuous background hum of sound and scent, the constant awareness that she’s there, in the next room, the warmth of her desire banked but still glowing. He can’t help but feel an answering warmth.

Foggy had mentioned over lunch that he’s meeting Marci for drinks after work, and Matt knows just what he wants to do, once he and Karen are alone.

When she goes to the kitchen to tidy up for the day, he follows, putting away his coffee cup as an excuse to lean close to her ear and whisper, “Let Foggy leave first.” She looks up sharply, her heart beating faster, then squeezes his hand in acknowledgement before they both return to their desks.

She’s finished with her work, but she putters around, re-organizing her files, keeping herself busy until Foggy comes out of his office, shrugging into his suit coat.

“I’m gonna take off,” he calls to Matt.

“Have fun,” Matt answers from his office. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow. Night, Karen.”

“Goodnight, Foggy.”

She waits for a few minutes after he leaves, but Matt stays in his office. Looking in the windows, she sees him clearing everything off his desk. His books are all put away, papers filed in desk drawers, his laptop set aside on top of a bookcase. _Interesting_.

She goes over and leans in his doorway, and asks innocently, “Did you want me for something?”

He turns to her with a slow smile that makes the office suddenly feel warmer.

“Yes,” he says, not at _all_ innocently. He crosses the room and takes her hand, his thumb stroking over her knuckles, and she starts to breathe faster.

“What did you have in mind?” she asks, her own voice turning flirtatious.

“I’ve been thinking about what you did for me earlier,” he answers, bringing her hand to his lips, “and I’d like to return the favor.” He kisses each finger tip, then sucks gently on her pinky finger, swirling his tongue around the tip. Her breath catches, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she realizes why he cleared off his desk—he wants to lay her out on it, right now, and eat her out. The thought sends a jolt of heat between her legs.

 _Yes. God, yes_. Only, she doesn’t want him to feel obligated, like he _has_ to do it.

“You don’t owe me anything, Matt. You don’t have to…just because I…”

“Oh, I want to,” he assures her. His lips brush her knuckles, his tongue darting out to trace the webbing between her fingers. Desire pools low in her belly, her heart pounding. She knows he really does enjoy going down on her. The first time he did it, the night of their first date, she was surprised by his enthusiasm as much as his skill.

“Here? Now?” she asks. Now that the workday’s over, they don’t _have_ to stay in the office…not that it doesn’t sound hot, because it really, really does.

“I didn’t feel like waiting,” he tells her, smiling again, heated and intent. “If you want me to, that is.”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly, tugging him toward her by his hips, pressing their bodies together as she kisses him.

He responds eagerly, kissing her deeply even as he turns them around and walks her back toward his desk. He strokes her face with one hand, fingers sliding along her jaw while his tongue explores her mouth, soft and hot and promising. Her knees go weak, just as she feels the edge of the desk touch the backs of her legs.

Still kissing her, Matt reaches down and takes hold of her skirt. He lifts it up, gathering the fabric in one hand while the other slips between her thighs. Karen groans, clinging to his shoulders, as his fingers press and rub against her. He can feel her wetness right through her panties, the smell of her growing stronger as she rolls her hips and grinds against his hand.

He smiles, then hooks his fingers under the waistband of the panties, tugging them down, pausing a moment to feel the soft curves of her ass under his hands. She smiles too, pressing her forehead against his, enjoying his touch, then wriggles out of the panties and kicks them aside. She sits on the edge of the desk and lies back, her skirt up around her waist, while Matt kneels on the floor between her legs. She shifts her legs, trying to find the most comfortable position, while he kisses and rubs his cheek against her inner thighs.

“Ooooh, you’re stubbly,” she laughs, squirming.

“Sorry.” He goes back to kissing, trailing his tongue lightly over her skin. “Better?”

“Yes,” she gasps, shivering, and settles with her knees pulled up on either side of her chest, thighs sprawling open. It feels lewd, indecent, but she can’t be bothered to care. “Okay,” she tells him.

He kisses her belly, just below her navel, then moves lower and sets to work. He licks around the sensitive edges of her slick opening, slipping his tongue inside and teasing the inner surfaces, tasting her musky warmth. She lets out a prolonged “Ahhhhh” and reaches out to grip the edges of the desk.

He works his way higher, licking slowly along her folds, focusing on her responses, every hitch in her breath, every involuntary twitch of her muscles, flicking his tongue rapidly over her flesh when he finds a particularly sensitive spot.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she gasps. They’ve only been dating a few weeks, but hearing Karen swear in that husky, breathless voice is quickly becoming one of Matt’s favorite things. He sucks her labia into his mouth, tugging gently, and she swears again and writhes, pushing toward him.

She’s trying to keep still, but pleasure courses through her in waves, and her hips have a mind of their own. His mouth is driving her wild, his lips soft and warm, his tongue firm and wet, teasing her nerves into a frenzy. She wouldn’t even care if someone walked in on them right now, as long as Matt doesn’t stop what he’s doing. She feels his lips curve in a smile as she writhes again, then one arm curls around her leg, his forearm pressing across her hips, holding her still.

He can feel small tremors in her muscles, her hips starting to feel the strain of her position, and he picks up the pace. He circles his tongue around her clit, pressing his lips against her and sucking softly, insistently, and she groans and arches her back. He can hear her blood pounding through the arteries next to his head, can smell the sweat breaking out on her skin as her tension mounts. He can feel himself getting hard again, her pleasure arousing him all over again, but that doesn’t matter right now. This is about Karen.

“Matt,” she gasps, “Put a finger in me, _please_.” He reaches up with his free hand and slips a finger inside her, sliding it in and out, his tongue never stopping. _Fuck, yes_ , it feels amazing, but it’s not enough. “More,” she gasps. He slides in a second finger, pressing and stroking inside her. She moans wantonly, panting for breath.

And suddenly she’s close, so close, and she cries out “Ah, god, Matt, don’t stop, _don’t stop_ —“ and bursts into release, her head and shoulders lifting off the desk as she shudders through her orgasm.

Matt feels her muscles clench and pull around his fingers, and strokes her a few more times, leaving his fingers inside her until she stops twitching and lies still, then pulling them out with a wet sound. She closes her legs with a soft groan and twists at the waist to lower them to one side, still bent, her feet hanging off the edge of the desk.

He stands up, leaning over her and using his clean hand to gently brush her hair off her forehead, fingers trailing over her face to feel her beaming smile. He considers his other hand, and makes a face. 

“I really need a box of tissues in here, or something,” he comments, and she grins. “I’ll be right back.”

He heads for the washroom to wash his hands and face. She lies there for a moment, enjoying the relaxed heaviness of her body. But Matt’s desk is _hard_ , now that she has the leisure for noticing such things. She stands up with another groan, looking around for her panties. She pulls them on and sits back down on the desk, swinging her legs, well pleased with how her day has gone.

When Matt returns, he walks over with a smile and tips her face up to his, kissing her soft and sweet. She wraps her arms around him, and her legs, too, and he laughs.

“Octopus,” he teases.

“You know you love it,” she counters, snuggling in and pressing her ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Yeah, I do,” he agrees happily, his arms curving around her shoulders. He rubs his cheek on top of her head, her hair silky and fragrant against his skin.

After a minute or so, she murmurs, “You know what would make this even better?”

“Tell me.”

“If we were in a nice, comfortable bed,” she says dreamily, “with no clothes on.”

Pressed together as they are, she feels the interested twitch of his cock against her stomach, and grins lazily.

“You make a compelling case, Miss Page,” he says, smiling into her hair. “I cannot fault your reasoning. May I make a suggestion?”

“Please do, Mister Murdock.”

“I suggest a bed with silk sheets.”

“Mmmmm, yes. Excellent idea. I suggest we pick up takeout on the way over.”

“Also an excellent idea.” He tips her face up and kisses her again. She unwinds herself and stands up, looking at the suspiciously empty desk top.

“Matt, we should put things back on your desk. In case Foggy gets here early tomorrow.”

“You’re right.” He retrieves books and files and spreads them around, restoring the desk to its usual appearance.

Before they leave, she can’t resist pulling him into a hug once more, just because she can, seeing her own happiness reflected in his smile. Then he tucks his hand into her elbow, his cane folded up under his arm, and they head out together into the warm spring evening.


End file.
